What Not To Wear
by TheSingingBlob
Summary: All fashion gurus understand the stigma that comes with a fanny pack. And no fashion guru knows better than Angel Dumott Schunard. Unfortunately, lovestruck professors don't always understand... Oneshot, A/C


A/N: This is for Kate, who was in some dire need of some A/C fluff. This is also my first actual A/C, so be nice. Because I love A/C more than any other RENT pairing. But if I have totally butchered them, please let me know for future. But if I got them and you liked it...let me know that too :) Reviews (and the lovely reviewers to take the time to write them) make my day!

Disclaimer: I am not quite so talented as the amazing Jonathon Larson.

Thomas Collins was going to have a long day ahead of him.

It wasn't like most of his days weren't long- most every day was long. But today he would be visiting a certain Mark Cohen at a certain Buzzline office to have a certain conversation about a certain Angel. Really, all he was going to do was go ask Mark to cut him some film- he was going to have Mark make Angel a short film of the two of them for Valentine's Day as a present and he was going out of his way today to see Mark about it. For the least part, it was going to give Mark something to do- as far as he was concerned, Mark was wasting himself at that cop-out Buzzline. He was an artist, damn it! Someone had to let him work his magic!

Today he had a lot of things to carry- money for Mark and flowers (February 13th only came once a year), ID to get in at Buzzline...house keys. He'd been mugged before, and money in pockets and keychains in coats were worth nothing when somebody ripped off your pants and your jacket. Today, he had a better way to carry his spare change: a fanny pack.

Fanny packs had been huge in the late eighties- he remembered vaguely one on the cover of Vogue, and he'd seen students wear them. But he'd never actually worn one himself. He'd seen a street vendor selling one a day or two ago and decided that a fanny pack might have been a good investment. So far, it was working out well- it was easily cloaked in his jacket, convenient, and held everything he needed to carry. Perfection in a Lycra/Cotton/Nylon blend. Plus, it had a clip on the end. A big old plastic buckle. Came right on and off! No fiddling involved!

His toast popped out of the toaster and he buttered it quickly, stuffing a good half of the crispy bread into his mouth as he headed out the door.

"Not so fast, mister. You're not leaving the house like this." Collins looked up from his toast to find Angel, who seemed to be on the brink of confused, disappointed, and stark-raving mad. She stood with her hands on her hips, her wig on a little crooked and her clothes highly suggestive of the upcoming holiday. She was always so coordinated.

"What is it, babe? Am I covered in toast, or something?" He laughed and checked his jacket, which did have a couple of crumbs on it. He brushed them off without a second thought and headed toward the door a second time.

"You were covered in toast, but that's not the point." Angel let out a tiny noise of displeasure. "You're still all wrong, honey. All wrong." She furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. "I thought you've lived with me long enough to know better by now." She huffed and straightened her wig, looking to Collins as if the world would go completely off-kilter if he didn't fix whatever happened to be wrong. Collins had no idea what happened to be wrong.

"Really, Ang? I gotta get goin'. Your man's gotta go to work. And out. And other things. Would you just tell me what's wrong so I can leave?"

Angel sighed. "Her man" would never learn. "You're wearing it."

"Oh, come on, Angel. I am not taking anything off. As much as I would like to right now, and just...stay here with you all day, you know I can't. Children gotta learn, teachers have to teach." He grinned and put his hands to her waist. The fanny pack pushed against her stomach.

Angel shook her head and lightly pushed Collins back a step. "_No_, honey, that is not what I meant. And you're still wearing it. Take it off." She pressed one hand against the offending fanny pack and looked up at Collins. "Collins, it needs to go."

"What needs to go?"

"The fanny pack! It needs to go if you're going out in public. It makes you look like a tacky tourist with a potbelly and it needs to come off. You are so much better than a tacky tourist."

Collins was hardly one to protest and Angel was hardly one to complain. But if she was complaining today...he was going to protest. "Angel...but it's so convenient! I have to carry things in it! See? It's functional."

Angel shook her head. "No. Fashion can be functional. And this is neither. Please, for the love of God, take off the fanny pack." A strained look was on her face- she was pushing through the frustration so he knew she was just looking out for his best interest. Nobody could ever be taken seriously in a fanny pack, especially a college professor.

Collins resigned and unclipped the fanny pack, emptied it into his coat pocket, and handed it to her. "Oh, fine. Anything for my Angel, right?" He kissed her on the forehead as he made his way out the door.

"That's right." Angel smiled and waved goodbye as he left, and as soon as he was out the door, she flung the fanny pack so that it skidded across the counter and stopped finally upon hitting the wall. It occurred to her to throw it away, but on second thought she decided it would be too cruel. Collins had some sort of attachment to the convenient-but-ubertacky body carry-on. So instead (as to be sure he never ever ever wore it again), Angel hid the offensive object in a kitchen cabinet that contained various spices. They hardly ever cooked anyway- what were the chances that he'd look there? Zero.

* * *

Thomas Collins was a gift-giving genius. 

They had a small candle lit and sitting in the middle of their coffee table. The couch, which was barely big enough for the both of them, was sinking under their collective cuddling weight (plus the fancy dinner they'd ordered in- Chinese). Various rosepetals littered the floor and Angel had tucked a particularly large pink carnation behind one ear. She was leaning against him, a little bit captivated with the film that Collins had had Mark put together for them. It was cute- all the best little film pieces of them...New Years, Christmas. Occasional other clips of them here and there- tossing snowballs, going ice-skating. Mark had done a fantastic job, Collins was happy to say. The film came to a close and he stood to turn off the projector, but Angel stopped him. "Not so fast, mister," she said, and a little grin crossed her face. "You're staying right here." Collins, who had been anticipating something like this, grinned widely and stretched out across the couch.

"I'm not moving," he said, looking up at her. "What did you think of that, by the way?"

Angel blushed and smiled. "It was great," she said, smoothing down her skirt she'd made for the occasion. First Valentine's Day. One of the most important days of the relationship. Of the year, anyway. "I can't believe you'd do something like that for me. I hardly think ordering you Chinese was enough of a gift." She reached over and took her lover's hand in her own.

"Anything for my Angel," Collins answered, running his thumb over the back of her hand. Time was short. Everything had to be his best effort. "Anything you'd ever want in the whole world."

Something occurred to Angel, as much as she didn't want to admit it. She _did_ have another gift for him, and if she'd do anything for him too, she would get it right now. "Stay right there," she said, standing and walking into the kitchen. After a few moments of hunting through the spice cupboard, she reentered the living room.

"A fanny pack?" Collins asked, a little confused. He'd been expecting something else...like melted chocolate or a different outfit. Hey, he was male, and it was Valentine's Day. But Angel was unexpected.

"_Your_ fanny pack," Angel corrected, and she took a seat in Collins's lap. "I'd do anything for you too...even let you walk around downtown New York with a fanny pack, if that was what you wanted."

Collins stared blankly for a moment before realizing the depth of what she was willing to do. And that meant a lot, even if it didn't sound like it. He grinned and kissed her soundly. He'd gotten an idea.

"If you'd do anything for me..."

"...I'd do anything for you..."

"...would you wear the fanny pack for me?"


End file.
